Page 4 of My Three Enemies

When I finally wake up the next day, I almost completely forget where I am—even who I am, for that matter. It was perhaps the best sleep I've ever had in my life. My sore limbs feel much more manageable and the aches from the night before have abated.

As I sit up, the memory of the three men comes back to me and I cautiously look to my right to find nobody sleeping in the bed with me. Where could Gray have gone?

I might be held captive by the brothers in this cabin, but they've already shown me more freedom than I've known for a long time.

Regardless of that fact, I have to leave. Moving from one prison to another wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I escaped the guards. I have to find a way to get away from these guys, and quickly.

I hop out of the bed and tiptoe into the bathroom, looking for my clothes. At the very least, I need pants. But of course, they're nowhere to be found.

I roll my eyes and shake my head in annoyance at Gray. He said he would take care of them, so I imagine they must be in the laundry. At least that's my hope.

I open the door to the room as quietly as I can and tiptoe from the hallway to the kitchen, pushing the bottom of the shirt down to cover more of my thighs.

I don't see any of the men as I walk through the cabin, so I assume they must be out and about.

Doing what? God only knows. I'm hoping I can somehow sneak out of the cabin before I ever have to find out.

A small closet in the kitchen catches my eye as potentially being sizable enough for a washer and dryer, so I step toward it and peek inside. Unfortunately for me, it just appears to be some kind of storage closet for various junk, cases of water, and cleaning supplies.

“What are you doing?” a voice says just as I close the door, making me jump and back away.

Dax stands in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, hanging low on his hips.

Of course, he's just as muscular as Gray, if not more so.

He seems to be the biggest of the three of them, and definitely the most imposing.

The way he looks at me is undeniable though.

I don't know if he would hurt me per se, but the look in his eyes tells me he definitely wants something from me.

“Oh, I was just looking for my clothes.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. His eyes drop to my exposed thighs and I immediately pull at the hem of the shirt to try to cover them.

“Thirsty?” he asks, nodding to the sink while shoving his hands in his pockets.

I slowly make my way over to the counter and face the sink, freezing as I look up at the cabinets. “Where are the cups?”

Dax moves toward the cabinets behind me and I start to step aside before he pins me against the counter.

My breath hitches in my throat as I feel his body pressed against me.

He reaches above me and opens a cabinet door, handing me a clear plastic cup.

I happily accept it, thinking he's going to back away, but he doesn't.

I look over my shoulder at him as I feel his cock stiffening in his sweatpants against my back.

My body shakes and I try to restrain my breathing as my chest heaves.

I'm completely surrounded by him as he presses his hands on the counter in front of me.

For some reason, all I can focus on is how incredible he smells. Like smoke from a fireplace and moss.

Push him away. Run.

No matter how much the thought echoes in my brain, I can't do it. Something about him is pulling me in and I find my back arching closer to him. Just that small movement is all he needs to slide his hands closer, tracing his fingers over the soft skin of my thighs.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Dax whispers, pushing his hands under the shirt and squeezing my thighs.

He grinds his hips harder against me, letting me feel just how hard he is for me.

He moans softly under his breath while he touches me.

His hands are hot and rough and with every stroke of my skin, a fire ignites inside me.

I can feel myself getting aroused as his hands slowly rise toward my breasts.

Just as fingers finally touch my hardened nipples, his lips meet my neck. Uncontrollably, I let out a desperate moan, still grinding his hips against my ass. I find myself pushing against him, desperate for more friction to relieve the feeling blossoming between my legs.

His tongue swirls around my skin, savoring the taste of me. I need more. I don't know what's taking over me, but I can't seem to stop myself.

I turn my face to him and he looks up, quickly pressing his lips against mine.

His hands drop from my breasts to my waist and he turns me around to face him.

My mouth opens for him and his tongue fills it, hungrily swallowing my own.

He's grabbing my ass now, squeezing it while he pulls me closer to him to feel his hard cock falling between my legs.

The fabric of his sweatpants is all that lies between us—he's achingly close. I've never felt this way about anything before, and I'm desperate to feel more of him. His cock grazes against me and I tremble as small surges of pleasure fill my body.

“Look how wet you are for me,” he says when he backs away and looks down at his cock in his pants, a small wet stain from my arousal marking the front of them.

Seeing how turned on I am for him seems to shift something in Dax. What once looked like desire turns into something else altogether, and he leans forward, kissing me again and gripping me tighter. His cock grinds against me and I can feel just how desperate he is for release.

Both of us are completely lost in the embrace, tasting each other as he touches me all over. I'm so enamored with a kiss that I don't even hear the kitchen door opening. I only realized someone else is standing there when Dax is forcefully pulled away from me.

Jackson stands in the doorway looking at both of us with his mouth hanging open and anger in his eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouts.

He stands between me and Dax as if he's trying to protect me from him somehow. But considering how he looked at me the night before, I highly doubt that's the case. Afterall, Jackson's the one who wanted to just kill me.

Dax turns away and runs his fingers through his short brown hair, forcing himself to look away from me. Jackson steps forward with his fists clenched at his side, glaring at his brother. Moments later, Gray rushes into the kitchen and stares at the three of us, silently asking what's going on.

Seeing how upset Jackson is, he immediately steps between the two of them and holds his hands out to stop Jackson from moving any closer.

“What the hell is going on here?” Gray asks, looking over at me with a guilty expression on my face.

Dax looks at him then back at me with a feral gleam in his eyes. He’s breathing heavily and shaking his head. “I can't fucking control myself around her.”

Without saying another word, he pushes past the others. He tosses one final look over his shoulder at me before shaking his head and turning to Gray. “I'm going for a run.”

He takes off and Gray mutters something under his breath that I can't hear. Gray moves toward the kitchen door. He looks at me apprehensively, then back at Jackson.

“Will you keep an eye on her?” he asks.

It's clear that neither Jackson nor myself want to be left alone with each other. Jackson thinks I'm some kind of liability, for whatever reason. And Jackson literally said he wanted to kill me less than ten hours ago.

“Can you stay with me?” I anxiously ask Gray. I step forward, hoping I can give him a pathetic enough glance that he knows just how much I want to stay away from Jackson.

He turns around, but doesn’t acknowledges my fear. He shakes his head and puts an arm on my shoulder. “I'll be back soon. Jackson's not going to hurt you while I'm gone.”

He tosses a warning glance over my shoulder at his brother and leaves the room. I watch as he slams the front door shut and chases after Dax, leaving me alone with Jackson.